


Lend A Hand

by thepetulantpen



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Holding Hands, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Prosthetic Hands, cross-posted from my tumblr, post dr2, put on your shipping goggles for the complete viewing experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29762751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepetulantpen/pseuds/thepetulantpen
Summary: “I’m only doing this for you.”Kazuichi glares, hoping it’ll make him look more serious, but Hajime only looks relieved. It hurts to know Hajime had been expecting him to say no, but he can’t blame him, given the circumstances.“I can’t thank you enough.”“You’ll owe me one.” This seems to have no effect, so Kazuichi adds, “I’m serious! I should be compensated for going anywhere near that creep.”(Kazuichi makes Nagito's new hand. As a favor, for his good friend, Hajime, of course. No other reason.)
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Soda Kazuichi, Komaeda Nagito & Soda Kazuichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Lend A Hand

“I’m only doing this for you.”

Kazuichi glares, hoping it’ll make him look more serious, but Hajime only looks relieved. It hurts to know Hajime had been expecting him to say no, but he can’t blame him, given the circumstances. 

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’ll owe me one.” This seems to have no effect, so Kazuichi adds, “I’m serious! I should be compensated for going anywhere near that creep.”

Hajime fidgets, hand coming up to fuss with hair that’s no longer there. It’s cut even shorter than it was in the simulation; apparently, he was a little hasty in getting rid of Izuru’s style. It was one of the first things he did when they woke up- Kazuichi remembers watching him, and seeing a bit of himself in the impulsivity.

These days, Hajime looks like he’s always towing the line, wanting to be supportive but afraid to be too defensive. Kazuichi knows he's starting to feel like something of a stranger, seeing their simulated friendships as inferior to the history the rest of them share. Not to mention the guilt at his role in… everything, but that's not exactly exclusive to Hajime.

His expression wavers, before Hajime visibly settles on, “He’s not so bad.”

It’s somehow both an understatement and overstatement- Nagito just _is_ , a person difficult to quantify. Beyond _crazy_ , that is. 

Memory is unreliable nowadays, a jumbled mess of school friends, fellow supervillains, and bits of code on a computer simulated island. The lines feel blurred, relief at seeing his close friends alive bleeding into horror at what they’ve done. Their killing game, too, feels fresh. He can’t help but see Nagito’s body when he closes his eyes, or feel the flash of heat from the bomb. The anger, and the sadness, is irrational- which only makes it harder to process.

Kazuichi doesn’t comment on any of that, distracting himself by turning to his work table. It’s newly set up by the Foundation, not quite lived in yet. Not as messy as he likes it.

“I’ll need some measurements, but I can get started.” He grimaces at the thought, having not even considered it when he agreed to this. “You’ll get that, right?”

Hajime smiles, almost laughs at Kazuichi’s expression, but nods. “Yeah, I got it.”

The thought of Hajime holding Nagito’s hand, carefully measuring, crosses his mind and he has to shake his head to clear it. It’s a stupid thing to be jealous of- Nagito is missing a damn hand. Of all the gruesome truths they’ve uncovered, of course there’s one that’ll give Nagito and Hajime an opportunity to hold hands.

Hajime is still hovering in the doorway, something obviously on his mind aside from Nagito. Normally, this is Kazuichi’s place to prompt him, get him to spill whatever it is. As competent as Hajime likes to pretend he is- freaky Izuru powers or otherwise- he’s always been better at getting _other_ people to talk. 

It’s different now- they’ve got a lot on their plates, more than some repressed childhood trauma that’s appropriate to share on a beach. He’s drawing up schematics for his friend’s hand, and he’s not sure he can handle anything heavy on top of that. 

He turns to Hajime, anyway. If something’s bothering him, he wants to help share that weight. “What’s up? You in the market for more shoddy prosthetics?”

“I don’t think you could make anything shoddy if you tried.” He says it offhandedly, without thinking. The confidence in his voice is enough to make Kazuichi pause, but he’s spared having to react as Hajime continues, “Thank you, really. You’re… a good friend, Kazuichi.” 

The unwitting rejection stings, but he raises his hand for a fist bump. “Of course, man. Whatever you need, alright?”

Hajime nods, a mirthless smirk on his face. It’s stretched too thin, like him. Kazuichi doesn’t know if he’s seen him sit down in the last week- always between righting one wrong and another. Chasing down the shadows of a person he never chose to be.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

It’s disproportionately serious, betraying Hajime’s exhaustion. Kazuichi gestures, silently, for him to sit in one of the extra chairs, an excuse and invitation to rest until someone comes to find him. He takes it, grateful, and scoots it to sit right beside Kazuichi.

Their shoulders brush and Hajime doesn’t flinch away.

Kazuichi tries to keep his eyes on the parts, tries not move too much as Hajime leans against him. He tries not to let it mean anything when Hajime starts reaching for tools before he can, passing him exactly what he needs. Certainly doesn’t think about what it means when Hajime starts to doze off- and focuses muttering his response, never mind that Hajime stopped talking an hour ago.

“Without my brilliance? I guess you’d be collectively short of one hand.”

…

A hand, compared to everything else he’s made, is not a complicated ask. It barely takes a week, and that’s only because he tries to make it perfect. He must spend hours in testing, fine-tuning movement and searching for flaws long after he knows there aren’t any.

_Not_ because he cares or anything- only so he doesn’t have to deal with it again if it breaks. 

The procedure to attach it is surprisingly simple; Mikan takes care of it, leaving Kazuichi to wait outside the room. Hajime’s supposed to be here, too, but he’s late- called away for a Foundation summons, which manages to be less appealing than what Kazuichi is doing now.

When it’s done, Mikan leaves, scurrying out with her head ducked down. She doesn’t address Kazuichi, which isn’t particularly abnormal. They’re all dealing with... this in different ways. 

Inside, Nagito is sitting in a chair, watching, nearly transfixed, as the hand responds to him, twisting and flexing. Kazuichi is tempted to just leave now- skip this interaction that he’s been dreading for days- but he doesn’t. Weirdo or not, Nagito doesn’t deserve to be walked out on.

He settles in the chair beside Nagito, gesturing to the hand. “I’ve got to show you how to take care of it. Maintenance, or whatever.”

“Ah,” Nagito smiles- a normal smile, by his standards, “I’m honored.”

Good to see coming out of the simulation didn’t fuck him up too much- this is about par for the course. Kazuichi just nods and gets to work, glancing up to make sure Nagito understands what he’s saying, more or less. Nagito still apologizes too much, which becomes an obstacle every time Kazuichi has to correct him. It turns explaining the mechanics of the hand, which parts need adjusting and which need regular replacements, into a grueling process.

He really is an air-head, when you get right down to it. Past all of the hope stuff, past all of the luck, he’s a regular guy. He’s not even so painfully insecure, in his best moments. 

It’s almost easy to see why Hajime likes him so much. 

At times like this, it feels like it did in school, simple friendships with no despair-laced strings attached. Hajime not being a part of that equation is a strange inconsistency. The thought that he never properly met Hajime- _just_ Hajime, not Izuru or a computer’s impression of him- makes his head hurt.

“It’s good to see you and Hajime are still getting along,” Nagito says, apropos of nothing, “You spent a lot of time together, on the island. I know he enjoys your company.”

He sounds oddly deliberate, not like the steady stream of nonsense that Kazuichi tends to filter out. It cuts through the haze of his half-concentration on the conversation. “Huh? Yeah, I mean, of course.”

Nagito stares at him, dull grey eyes unyielding, before he smiles, again. “This hand was a favor for Hajime, wasn’t it? I’m sure he appreciated that.”

He’s almost nagging this time, like he’s trying to get at something in particular, but it’s the words that catch Kazuichi’s attention. Kazuichi looks up sharply from where he’d been checking the spare parts, now labeled and boxed up.

“It wasn’t just for Hajime, you know.” Kazuichi rubs the back of his neck, trying not to cringe. “I wouldn’t leave you without a hand.”

“I wasn’t doubting your goodwill.” He waves his hand- the real one- dismissively. “Truly, I look up to you. Your devotion to Hajime-”

“It’s not that,” Kazuichi talks quickly, as Nagito’s face starts to fall, “We’re friends. After everything we’ve been through- you think I wouldn’t help?”

Kazuichi bites his lip, half to keep himself from saying anything else. He’s not a perfect conversationalist, but he never imagined he’d outpace Nagito in making a conversation awkward. He shouldn’t have stuck around. Nagito could’ve figured out how to adjust the grip himself, couldn’t he? 

“Oh,” Nagito pauses, genuinely surprised, and stops short of whatever else he was going to say, “in that case, I’m lucky to have such incredible friends.”

The word sounds strange coming from Nagito- too hesitant, like he’s only trying it out. It’s not the first time they’ve called each other friends, but it’s the first time after the world ended; which, even for Nagito, makes a significant difference.

“We’re all here for you. For each other.”

Kazuichi winces, but it has the desired effect of making Nagito smile. Though it doesn’t look like he entirely believes Kazuichi, the expression a little forced, he figures it’s the best they can hope for. 

“Right,” Kazuichi stands, abruptly, and makes for the door, “I’d better get going.”

“Wait, Kazuichi-“

He yanks it open before Nagito can finish and finds, standing in the doorway with his hand half-raised to knock, Hajime. He’s got a knowing look on his face, barely concealing a smile.

“Making friends?”

Kazuichi scowls, trying to look as threatening as he can- which is to say, not very. “Not a word.”

Hajime brushes it off easily with a grin, switching places with Kazuichi to sit with Nagito. As Nagito waves to him with his new hand, metal creaking softly, Hajime relaxes, remaining tension leaving his shoulders.

“Sorry I was late. Makoto is finalizing some of the details and- it doesn’t matter. How are you feeling?”

“I’m great.” Nagito looks like he means it, lighting up at the sight of Hajime. “Kazuichi’s been great company. I see why you like him so much.”

Kazuichi steps back, getting the impression he’s no longer a part of this conversation. He keeps his head down and pretends not to notice as Hajime laughs at something Nagito says- too quiet to hear from the doorway. Hajime looks up as he leaves, but Kazuichi only gives a brief wave, leaving them to their own devices.

It feels vaguely like being left behind, even if he’s the one walking out.

…

It’s a few days later, on the beach, when he dares see either of them again. 

He refuses to admit that he’s avoiding anyone- he only happens to not run into them. It just so happens that he spends the majority of his days locked in his lab, with a Do Not Disturb sign up, listening to the sound of disappointed footsteps approaching, pausing, and leaving. 

And, just once, the click of Nagito’s heeled shoes and an extended moment of hesitation- the shadow remaining at his door for a minute, at least- before it, too, leaves. 

It’s not jealously. It’s just... weird, being around people he calls _friend_. Even after all this time, he feels like he can’t quite get it right. 

Especially with Hajime. For multiple reasons. 

He’s here now, despite that, because if he doesn’t leave the lab, he thinks Hajime might send in rescue parties after him. It should be embarrassing that he’s partially hidden behind a palm tree, creepily watching Hajime and Nagito from a distance, but it’s not the weirdest thing he’s done, even excluding his time corrupted by despair- hell, even excluding all of their time in the killing game.

Kazuichi smiles softly as he watches them, Hajime’s grin bright and Nagito looking less miserable than usual. The shadows they all carry dissipate in the steady sunlight, the rock of waves suspending them in a limbo on this island, far from where the rest of the world can reach them. 

Nagito says something Kazuichi doesn’t catch that makes Hajime frown, and he waves his hand- the new, metal one- in Hajime’s face, clearly teasing. “I _know_ you do.”

“Nagito,” Hajime is laughing as he tries to catch Nagito’s hand, “ _Nagito_ , come on.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but,” Nagito lowers his voice, so Kazuichi has to lean in to hear him, “subtlety isn’t one of your many talents.”

Hajime opens his mouth, like he’s going to argue, just as Kazuichi steps forward, intentionally scuffing his shoe against a rock- feeling, for the first time, guilty for eavesdropping. At his footsteps, Hajime whips around, something suspiciously like a blush on his face. 

Hajime glares at Nagito, who pays him no mind in favor of greeting Kazuichi, cheerfully, with, “What great luck. Hajime was just looking for you.”

“Been busy with, uh, projects, but,” the beanie, a few minutes ago, had felt silly under the constant sun of the beach- now, he’s glad to have something to fidget with. He pulls it lower, as if that’ll hide him, “you always know where to find me.”

Hajime raises his eyebrows, glancing at Nagito- who, judging from his shrug, isn’t much help. “I wasn’t sure you wanted visitors.”

“I never mind seeing you.” It’s as if flashing neon signs reading AWKWARD blind him for a moment as he backpedals, “Uh, whenever you want to hang out, man. Never too busy for you.”

“We should,” Hajime interrupts, before Kazuichi can spiral deeper. “Hang out, I mean. Just me and you. If you have time.”

Kazuichi looks over to Nagito- or, the empty spot where Nagito _was_. There’s a footprint in the sand and, in the distance, he spots the flash of a coat as Nagito trips over rocks on his way to beat a hasty retreat. It’s hard to tell whether Nagito has been taking lessons from Peko, or if Kazuichi’s skills in observation are worse than he thought. He’s not sure whether he wants to thank him or curse him for leaving them- maybe he’ll decide based on how much of a disaster this ends up being.

Hajime is watching him expectantly, not as surprised by Nagito’s escape act. 

“Not a lot going on right now. Besides, you know, the apocalypse.” It’s hard not to be nervous, even if Kazuichi can’t pinpoint exactly why. He can feel a tangent coming on, forces himself to stop before he says something he’ll regret. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

Hajime shuffles a step closer and looks down, not meeting Kazuichi’s eyes. “I’ve missed you. I know that’s stupid, since we’re both on the same island, but-“

“I know what you mean,” he says, quietly, cutting him a break, “I think.” He _hopes_ he knows what he means- hopes it means what it means to him.

Hajime looks up, mismatched eyes studying him. It’s not as disconcerting as he imagined it might be.

After a moment, Hajime glances away again, breaking eye contact. “Do you want to go now? There’s food in the kitchen. It’s nothing glamorous, but,” he shakes his head, smile a little sheepish, “I guess I’m not very good at this, even now.”

He’s clearly doing _something_ right, but if Kazuichi could figure that out, he would have a lot easier time responding. He’d probably even say something more eloquent than, “Sounds great! Lead the way?”

It doesn’t make a difference. Hajime looks delighted, like Kazuichi had said anything else. It’s a warm feeling, to see Hajime smile even when he’s barely done anything to deserve it.

Hesitating just a step, Hajime turns back to Kazuichi and holds his hand out, offering an unsure smile and no words to the silent gesture. Kazuichi takes it before he can second-guess it and lets himself be pulled along, nothing on his mind but this moment, the sun, the waves and Hajime.

They can make something new here- hands and hope and a life no longer broken into half-remembered pieces. It’s a new start, after the world and their lives have been burned away a few times over. A second or third chance. Best to stop counting, at this point.

It’s only fitting that they begin again on a beach. This time, he’ll be aiming a little higher than “soul friends”.

**Author's Note:**

> I am once again reminded that I'm way too melodramatic to write these characters. 
> 
> To be fair, it's been a long time since I've played the games or watched the anime, so if there's inaccuracies it's because I couldn't be bothered to research. That being said, I've wanted to write a fic for this headcannon for a long time. It just happens that a friend has gotten me into kazuichi/hajime and inspired the rest of it. Not completely happy with the final product, but since I meant to post this two weeks ago, I decided to just be done with it. 
> 
> The characterization is a bit off, to say the least, but I hoped you enjoyed anyway!


End file.
